No (Sick) Day But Today
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: Even federal agents need to take a sick day every once and awhile. Fluffy Pike sickfic.


It didn't happen very often, they tended to be pretty lucky when it came to illness in the house (it was pretty much the only good luck they had), but occasionally the stress and exhaustion of their jobs would catch up with one of them in the midst of allergy season or a weakened immune system wouldn't do it's job. This time it was Paige's turn. She had gone to bed early the night before, claiming she was just tired from a hectic week, trading their Friday beers and bonfire on the beach for a cup of tea and sleep. Charlie was suspicious but she didn't say anything, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to the younger woman. It didn't stop her from waking up early the next morning though, even before Mike headed out for his run, to check in on Paige.

She was curled up under every blanket she had in her room, even the fluffy purple throw from the chair by the window Wearing a long sleeved shirt that looked suspiciously like the one Mike had reported missing a few weeks ago (Johnny had been on laundry duty that week so everyone had assumed it had been a casualty), her face was pale against the pillow except for the two red spots high on her cheeks. _Fever._ Charlie thought, as she placed a gentle hand against Paige's burning forehead.

"Mmm…" Paige groaned softly, turning her face toward the comforting hand.

"Shh," Charlie whispered. "Hey there baby girl. You're okay, I think you've got a cold." Paige didn't respond but slowly opened her eyes, only to shut them back quickly from the assault of light on her headache.

"You need me to get you anything?" Charlie asked. Paige gave the tiniest shake of her head no. "I was going to go into the office today, finish up some paperwork, but I don't care to call in and stay here." Paige shook her head stronger.

"Go ta work. Just wanna sleep." She answered, her voice strained and scratchy, as she tugged the blankets up closer to her face.

"I'm gonna bring you some cold medicine at the very least." Charlie told her, tone of voice making it obvious that it wasn't up for argument. "And make sure somebody is here today, just incase you need anything."

"K." Paige answered. Minutes later Charlie made her way back upstairs with a glass of Jakes's orange juice, a water bottle, granola bar, and two cold and flu pills. Paige sat up only long enough to swallow the pills with a swig of juice before falling back into her mound of blankets, asleep before her head hit the pillow. Charlie sighed as she walked to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with cold water and returning to Paige's room, placing the cool cloth on the sleeping woman's forehead.

A few hours later Paige woke up, her face smushed against a slightly damp warm washcloth. Her headache was still there but it was bearable and her (Mike's) shirt was drenched in sweat. She slowly sat up, pushing the pile of blankets down to her ankles, and took a long drink from the water bottle Charlie had left for her. She carefully stood up as she unbuttoned the now sticky shirt, tossing it into her hamper, leaving her in a tank top and pajama shorts. Vaguely she remembered Charlie telling her that someone would stay home today if she needed anything, so she combed her fingers through her hair as she made her way downstairs in an attempt to look less like death.

Mike was sitting on the couch, bare feet propped up on the coffee table, a dogeared and worn book in hand. "Hey!" He said, attention torn from the pages by Paige's sneeze as she entered the living room. "How ya feeling?" Concerned eyes scanned her up and down, looking for any problems he could fix.

She made her way to the couch and collapsed next to him on the sofa. "Headache. Sore throat. Kinda sniffly. Hot one minute, cold the next. Other than that I'm perfect."

"Charlie said you had a fever this morning." He said as he placed the underside of his wrist to her forehead. "Feels like it's gone for now though."

"I vaguely remember her bringing me meds." Paige replied as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the couch.

"Yup," Mike answered looking at his watch. "Two hours and fourteen minutes ago."

Paige cracked open one eye to send him a questioning glance.

"She left me detailed instructions on how to take care of you." Mike said with a smile, motioning to the yellow legal pad of paper that was covered in Charlie's handwriting on the coffee table. "Which reminds me!" He jumped off the couch and went into the kitchen, returning moments later with a steaming mug. "Tea. Charlie said it would help." Paige gladly took the outreached cup, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic. "Thanks."

"No problem. You need anything else?" Mike asked, perching across from her on the coffee table.

"Nah. Just thought I might feel better if I made myself get out of bed." She answered, sipping on the tea.

"You wanna watch a movie then?" Mike questioned, inclining his head toward the huge flat screen that was rarely used.

"Sure. Whatever you wanna watch." Paige shivered, regretting not pulling on another shirt over her tanktop.

"No way. I'm taking care of you and Charlie will kill me if I don't do a good job. it's your choice. What's your sick movie?" Mike tossed her the blanket folded up at the end of the couch so she wouldn't have to move to get warm again.

"Sick movie?"

"Yeah, you know. That one movie that you always watch when you feel like crap and no matter how bad you're feeling it helps? Your sick movie." Mike explained.

"I don't, I don't have one. I normally just sleep until I don't feel like dying." Paige answered honestly.

"Seriously?" Mike asked, shocked. "Not even one from, like, when you were a kid?"

"Nope. We can just watch your's." Paige told him, setting her now empty tea mug on the table and wrapping up in the blanket.

Mike grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think you would really care about my sick movie. Just, here." He tossed her the remote. "Flip through Netflix and pick one."

"No way, Warren. Now I have to know." Paige ordered, intrigued now. "What is it? And remember, Charlie will kill you if you're mean while you're supposed to be taking care of me."

"Ugh." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "No judgements, alright? You can't make fun of me for it or I might just have to make you tell Johnny that you're the one who stole my missing shirt." He shot her a sly smile.

"How'd you…" Paige started but Mike interrupted her. "Charlie told me to check in on you every half hour."

"Fine. I won't make fun of whatever the movie is. But I'm keeping the shirt." She told him.

"Deal. I'll be right back." He started up the stairs.

"It better not be Frozen, Mike!" She called after him. "That shirt is not worth missing out on all the ways I could torture you for that one."

Mike walked back down the stairs holding one hand behind his back, the other held another one of his button down shirts. He tossed the shirt to Paige with a knowing smile. "It's not Frozen. But that guess is actually way closer than I would like to admit."

Paige contentedly slid her arms into the too big sleeves of Mike's shirt. "Now I'm scared. You're almost blushing Mike, what movie is this?"

He took his hand from behind his back and handed her a dvd case, worn from years of use. RENT.

"Seriously? A musical?" Paige asked shocked. She never would have expected that one.

"Okay, it's seriously an amazing movie. The play is better, if you ever get a chance to see it live, but the movie is great. And it's the perfect sick movie cause no matter how horrible you feel or what you're going through in your life it shows you that it can ALWAYS be worse and to be thankful for what you have and…"

"Mike!" Page stopped him mid rant. "Okay! I'll watch your silly musical!" She couldn't keep the laugh out of her voice. "But you have to sing along for me."

He snatched the movie out of her hands. "I thought we said no judgement?"

"I'm not judging! I just want you to sing along to your musical!"

"You're awfully rude for someone who is supposed to be sick," Mike told her. "Do you want to watch it or not?"

"Sure." Paige agreed. "I still want you to sing though."

"Only during Roger's parts." Mike conceded, putting the dvd into the player. "Roger's the best."

"Oh, I'm sure he's wonderful." Paige agreed sarcastically as Mike sat back down on the couch beside her.

"C'mere." Mike said, placing his wrist to her forehead again before gently lifting Paige so that she was curled sideways on his lap, her head resting on his chest. "I want you close to me so I can make fun of you for crying during my 'silly musical."'

"Uh-huh." Paige whispered as the title screen flashed on the tv. "Mike Warren just wants an excuse to cuddle."

"Shhh!" He replied. "It's starting."

So they watched Rent. Paige was hooked before Light My Candle, and by the time they left the subway after Santa Fe, she was fighting a yawn every few minutes. "You know, you can go to sleep. We can pause it, start up right here when you wake up." Mike told her, knowing she needed her rest.

"No. I wanna know what happens." she whispered back, never taking her eyes off the screen.

They made it through the movie, Mike agreeing never to speak about how the sleeves of the shirt Paige was wearing were soaked with spilled tears, not willing to admit to the few that had fallen from his own eyes, as long as Paige agreed to never let anyone know that he could actually sing. Really, really well.

"Come on," Mike said as he stood up, setting Paige back down on the couch. "You're feavering back up, we're about an hour past time for you to take more cold meds and you can barely keep your eyes open."

He brought her a new, cold, bottle of water and more pills. She swallowed them gratefully, pain once again radiating through her head and throat. "Want help getting back up to your bed?" Mike asked.

"Nah, I think I'll just crash here for a while. Couch is comfy." She pulled the blanket around her as she coughed into her shoulder.

"Well then I guess I should be a gentleman and offer to keep you company." Mike said with a smile. He sat down at one end of the sofa and let Paige use his thigh as a pillow.

"A real gentleman with a voice like yours would offer to sing me to sleep..." Paige teased as she closed her eyes.

Mike smiled, softly running his fingers through her messy blonde curls, and began.

"You're eyes

As we said our goodbyes

Can't get them out of my mind

And I find that I can't hide from

Your eyes

The ones that took me by surprise

The night you came into my life

Where there's moonlight

I see your eyes"

Mike thought she was asleep, so he stopped singing. He was wrong.

"You were right, ya know." Paige's sleepy voice came from his lap. "You're supposed to be asleep. Right about what?" He asked.

"Roger. He was pretty awesome." She snuggled deeper into the blanket. "You'd make a good Roger, if this FBI thing doesn't work out. I'd come see you on Broadway..." Her voice trailed off as she finally fell asleep.

"Well thank you, but I'm pretty happy right here." Mike said, smiling down at the sleeping girl. Nobody else was home to hear him, so he finished his song. Meaning every word.

"I should tell you, I should tell you

I have always loved you.

You can see it in my eyes."

Mike might have had the voice to make it big on Broadway, but Paige had the acting skills. He never knew that she stayed awake for the remainder of his song.

Best sick movie ever.

 **This was inspired by my current cold and the fact that Rent is my sick movie. And if you have never heard Aaron Tveit sing, go Youtube him. NOW. Prepare to be amazed. He's one of my favorite Broadway men. And he played Roger in a production of Rent a few years ago with Skylar Astin (another one of my favorite Broadway men) and it was beyond epic.**


End file.
